The Year Of The Onion
by Jessyca Thornbrook
Summary: Mamoru gets in touch with his inner goblin and has trouble renting a movie. Among other events.
1. Sneak Attack

Disclaimer: I own a bunch of stuff, but none of it is Sailor Moon. Well, except for the DVD boxed sets. . . but you know what I mean.

The Year of the Onion

by Jessyca Thornbrook

1. Sneak Attack

Mamoru was sitting quietly at the counter in the Crown Center arcade, enjoying a pleasant, java-induced sense of well-being, when something hit him abruptly on the top of his head. Hard. He reached up and found, not at all to his surprise, a small, black shoe. And turning around he discovered, also predictably, Tsukino Usagi standing behind him, one foot clad only in a white ankle sock.

What _did_ surprise him, however, was the look on her face. She was _smiling_. As if she knew exactly what she was doing. As if she had crept up silently behind him, taken off her shoe, and purposely conked him on the noggin with it.

(Which, in fact, she had.)

"Lose something, Odango Atama?" he inquired in his most sarcastically superior tone.

"Why, _yes_, I DID!" she cried, in a fairly decent imitation of surprise. "Wherever did you find it?" She reached for the shoe, but he held it out of reach.

"Would you mind telling me why you felt the need to attack me with your shoe? Didn't you have any failed tests handy?" he sneered.

"Nope, no tests today, thank goodness! I suppose I could've hit you with my homework, but I thought you might be in such _deep_ contemplation of your coffee cup that it wouldn't get your attention! So, I used my shoe." She shrugged nonchalantly, as if that explained everything.

"And why, exactly, were you trying to get my attention in the first place?"

"I wanted to ask you something, of course."

"What?"

"Are you really smart?"

"Am I smart?" the question caught him totally off guard. "Why are you asking me that? I'm not going to do your homework for you, if that's what you're thinking."

Usagi rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. I just want to know: do you think you're smart?"

"Compared to whom?" he smirked.

"Compared to. . . to most people! Will you just answer the question?" she burst out in exasperation.

"All right, I'll play along. Sure, compared to the average person my age, I guess I'm fairly intelligent."

"Really?" she asked, with a mischievous glint in her eye, which made him a little nervous for some reason. She continued without waiting for a response, "Then how is it that I know something you don't know? Something about _you_!" He almost had to smile—she looked so immensely pleased with herself.

Mamoru considered ignoring her statement, just saying 'Oh, really?' and turning back to his coffee—she was obviously _dying_ to explain herself, and it would make her so angry if he didn't react. . . but then she'd probably start wailing her head off, and he didn't need that. Besides, though he'd never admit it to himself, he _was_ curious.

So he said the expected line: "Like what?"

Her grin grew even wider. "Well, I'm not going to just _tell_ you! You have to figure it out!" And with that, she snatched her shoe from his hand, crammed it back on her foot, and scampered out the door.

Mamoru heard a chuckle behind him, and turned to face his best friend, Motoki.

"What do you suppose that was all about?" Mamoru commented in his best not-that-I-care voice.

"Sorry, couldn't tell ya, pal," said Motoki, with a grin not unlike the expression Mamoru had just seen on Usagi's face.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I've been sworn to secrecy."

"By whom?"

"Well," said Motoki thoughtfully, "I guess I _could_ tell you that part," he paused, and Mamoru was irritated to find himself leaning forward in anticipation, "but then I'd have to kill you!" Motoki finished with an even wider grin.

"Fine," Mamoru sighed, "whatever." He slouched out of the arcade, feeling none too happy at having lost _two_ verbal sparring matches back to back—with no idea why.


	2. The Cheesecake Fairy

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon is not mine. The cheesecake is.

The Year of the Onion

by Jessyca Thornbrook

2. The Cheesecake Fairy

Mamoru was not having a good day. Somehow, he'd done the wrong homework assignment for his sociology class. He could have sworn the professor said to do the _even_ numbered questions from the textbook. Apparently not, since everyone else had done the odd ones.

And as if the zero mark weren't enough, the prof had to call him on it in front of the entire class. "I do not make exceptions or give special consideration to any student, Chiba-san, whether his past grades in my class have been good or not! There is no excuse for inattention!"

As if he'd been asking for special treatment! And if he'd been inattentive, well, it certainly wasn't _his_ fault! It was that wretched girl! That Odango Atama, bothering him with her silly little "secrets" when he had other, more important things to think about.

Thus, he was feeling anything but charitable when she came flying round a corner and smacked into him.

"Honestly, Odango Atama, don't you ever look where you're going?" he snapped, fully expecting her to yell back. It was fine by him if she did—he was in the mood for a fight.

Evidently she wasn't. She grinned up at him. "Well, of course I look where I'm going _sometimes_. Just not today! Do you look where you're going all the time?" she asked innocently.

"Of course I do. It saves me time apologizing to lampposts," he replied mockingly. She turned a little red, but kept smiling.

"Well, maybe _you_ should start watching where _I'm_ going! That way you can dodge. 'Kay, bye!" With that, she darted around him and took off down the sidewalk. As he stared after her, bemused, she suddenly stopped and spun back around.

"Hey," she shouted, "I almost forgot! Have you figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out?" he responded, knowing full well what she meant.

"What I know about you! I'll give you a hint, if you want," she teased.

Mamoru knew he should just walk away. Just turn and go home. He was almost there. A couple more blocks, and he could immerse himself in the quiet of his solitary apartment and focus on his own life, without the distraction of blond dumpling heads with big blue eyes and bright smiles. Which were NOT cute!

Even as he thought all this, his mouth was betraying him.

"Fine, Odango. Since you obviously want to tell me, I'll humor you." His ego tried to console itself with his sarcastic tone. Unsuccessfully.

She skipped back over to him, glee practically oozing out every pore. Stopping about a foot away, she looked up with an angelic expression into his wary eyes.

"Onions."

"What?"

"Onions," she stated again.

"What about onions?"

"Onions are the clue. Figure it out, genius!" And she was gone in a flash of golden hair and giggles.

Mamoru continued home, feeling foolish. _Which is becoming a daily habit,_ he reflected sourly. All he wanted was to get into his apartment and crash. And possibly pig out on some incredibly unhealthy dessert substance—if there was anything. He groaned, remembering that he'd finished off the double chocolate chocolate chip ice cream last night. He _really_ didn't feel like going to the store...

And he didn't have to. Sitting innocently on his doorstep when he got home was a white box. The shiny red print on its top proclaimed it to be from Sogo department store. Upon opening it, he found the most delicious-looking chocolate cheesecake he'd ever seen. It was smothered in strawberries and syrup, with curly shavings of dark chocolate on top. In short, a masterpiece of the confectionery art.

Tucked into the corner of the box was a note written on pink paper in block letters. It read:

Your smile is sweeter, but this is the best I could do. Enjoy!

Love,

The Cheesecake Fairy

It was the best thing he'd ever eaten.


	3. Confession Under Duress

Disclaimer: What do Sailor Moon, Shrek, a shiny new BMW, and the country of Liechtenstein all have in common? This: I don't own any of them.

Explanatory note: Major train stations in Japan (particularly Tokyo) are kind of like shopping malls. There are restaurants, lots of shops, and often major department stores that you can enter without leaving the station. It can get extremely confusing--I got trapped in a department store for about half an hour once, trying to get out of Shinjuku station—I couldn't find the exit!

Anyway, I've been missing Japan lately, so I thought I'd add some realism! Oh, and in chapter 2 I mentioned Sogo department store, which is a real place. Somebody told me that the one at Yokohama station is the biggest department store in the world. I don't know if that's true, but it's the biggest I've ever been in! And yes, you can buy cheesecake at department stores. The first floor or basement usually sells food.

Dontcha feel all edjumucated now?

The Year of the Onion

by Jessyca Thornbrook

3. Confession Under Duress

Other than the sound of her voice when she was unhappy, Usagi's hair was probably the most recognizable thing about her. Mamoru reflected on this as he threaded his way through the crowded station, mainly because it was more comfortable than meditating on _why_ he was following the aforementioned hairstyle as it bounced through a sea of weary commuters.

She disappeared down a short hall between two small boutiques. Mamoru hesitated mentally, considering whether or not to follow any further, but his feet had already made the decision for him. He went through the glass doors at the end of the hallway and found himself outside on a little terrace with several tables, benches, and flowers growing in large pots everywhere.

Over by the railing, three small children were chasing each other around a bench, while their mother talked on her cell phone a few feet away. Usagi was sitting on one of the other benches, watching them with a smile. As a train came rumbling into the station, the two older kids ran over to watch. The littlest boy kept chasing himself around the bench for a few moments, unaware that his companions had gone. Usagi burst into giggles, and Mamoru found himself smiling, too, though at the little boy or the teenage girl, he wasn't sure.

The smile was still there when Usagi looked up and noticed him. He thought he heard her breath catch, though he was too far away to be sure. He walked toward her, with no idea what he was going to say to explain his presence. Fortunately, habit kicked in.

"Did you actually leave school on time today, Odango? I'm impressed. I thought you always had to stay late!"

"What are you doing here?" She had asked him that or something similar plenty of times in the past, but it had always sounded like an accusation before. This time it didn't. She sounded surprised, but not unpleasantly. He almost thought she was. . . glad to see him?

"Oh, I'm just watching where you're going, so I can dodge," he replied smoothly. He was trying to sound sarcastic, but somehow it came out more like friendly teasing. _What's wrong with me lately?_

Usagi giggled. "Have you discovered the secret of the onions yet?"

She looked up at him, eyes sparkling, head cocked slightly to the side, golden hair dancing gently in the breeze. Something about her, the pretty picture she made there among the flowers in the spring sunshine, made Mamoru's insides give a strange little leap.

Suddenly, his inner goblin got loose.

"You know, Odango," he said, sitting down beside her, "I don't think I really trust this 'clue' of yours. How do I know you're not just making it up off the top of your head, just so you can laugh at me?" He slid closer so that his arm, resting on the back of the bench, touched her shoulders. He felt her stiffen in surprise. The goblin chortled gleefully.

"Anyway," he continued, apparently oblivious to her discomfort, "'Onions' isn't enough to tell anyone anything. If you're going to go around hinting at things, you should at least give decent hints."

"I—it—" she stammered, looking up at him, then seemed to recover. "It's not my fault if you can't figure out my hints! You're supposed to be so smart. . . ." He smiled charmingly, and she trailed off and dropped her gaze to her lap.

"C'mon, Odango, you can give me a better hint than that. What about onions?" His arm slipped from the back of the bench and wrapped around her shoulders. She glanced at him again, wide-eyed, then resumed her study of her fingernails, her head turned slightly away from him so her hair partially shielded her face.

"O-dan-go," he repeated in a sing-song half-whisper, "tell me about onions!" He leaned forward, craning his neck to try to look her in the face. "Tell me, Usagi-chan!"

He definitely didn't imagine her sharp intake of breath this time. Suddenly those brilliant blue eyes filled his vision, and he realized how close they actually were.

His body had evidently decided not to wait for instructions from his brain today. _What are you DOING?_ his voice of reason screamed, as he raised his hand to trace one finger lightly down the side of her neck. She shivered, her eyes fluttering shut, and his other arm tightened around her. He would barely need to move to kiss her...

"Ogres," she whispered, just before his lips reached hers.

"Hmm?"

"Ogres. . . are. . . like onions."

His eyes opened. "Ogres are like onions?"

She nodded, her eyes opening as well. "That's the whole clue. You have to figure out what it means." And before he could say another word, she leaned forward and brushed her lips across his in a brief, sweet kiss.

Then she slipped from his arms and ran.


	4. Ogres Are Like Onions

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Nor do I own a pink Hello Kitty television. But they exist! Be afraid, be very afraid. . . .

The Year of the Onion

by Jessyca Thornbrook

4. Ogres Are Like Onions

It wasn't working.

Mamoru usually avoided places like this. When he had to go shopping, he went for the upscale, spacious, tastefully quiet shopping centers, places he could think clearly and relax. He avoided the trendier malls like the plague—they were always full of shrieking teens, loud music, and young, bleach-haired salesgirls yelling welcomes in nasal voices that could shatter glass. No thanks.

Yet here he was, purposely wandering through noisy, crowded little shops full of bizarre merchandise, opening his ears to the deafening cacophony, letting the sensory overload wash over and through him.

And it wasn't working.

In spite of it all, he couldn't stop thinking. About the clue. About the kiss. About her. Usagi-chan. Good grief, he wasn't even thinking of her as Odango Atama any more! Well, not all the time, anyway. And other words were starting to creep into his brain, words like _angel_ and _mine_. And _Usako_. Whenever he relaxed at all, the words would come sneaking into his thoughts, and he'd find himself whispering them aloud.

Which was another reason he'd come to this mall. At least no one would be able to hear him muttering to himself like a lunatic.

He stared into a display case of men's silver jewelry: heavy-looking rings and bracelets that he would never wear. Some had inlaid stone—turquoise, lapis, opal. Mamoru frowned. The lapis was too dark, the turquoise too green, and both were far too opaque. They should be more translucent, like the opal, but in a clear, bright blue. . . just like her eyes. . . .

"ARGH!" He brought his hand down hard on the top of the display.

"Excuse me, sir, may I help you?" the salesgirl inquired, looking as if she couldn't decide which was more important: the fact that he seemed crazy, or the fact that he was really cute.

"Uh—no, thanks," Mamoru mumbled, embarrassed. He turned away quickly, before she could try to sell him anything. He took two steps, and suddenly froze.

"Ogres. . . are like onions!" Somehow, that one sentence filtered through the unceasing deluge of noise, and struck his ears like a bell. He looked around wildly for the source.

In front of a nearby children's store, two kids stood mesmerized in front of a pink Hello Kitty television. On its screen were two computer animated characters: a donkey and a big green. . . ogre? An ogre! Holding an onion! This was it! Mamoru's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Without another thought, he sat down on the floor next to the children and listened as the ogre explained his philosophy to the donkey.

They got as far as parfaits before Mamoru noticed anyone staring at him.

_What, can't a grown man sit on the floor and watch cartoons in a public place?_ he grumbled to himself as he walked away. And really, what had those two young mothers thought he was going to do to their kids? _Watching a kids' movie doesn't make me a psycho!_ He shrugged it off—he had more important things to do. Like finding that movie!

It would have helped, he reflected an hour and a half later, if he'd known the title. At least then he wouldn't have had to try to describe it to the video store clerks. The young man at the first store had just stared at him blankly. The third clerk he spoke to at the second video store had at least been able to identify the movie he was after: _Shrek_. She hadn't been able to find it on the shelf, though. Her assistant manager finally found the empty box—it was already rented out.

Mamoru stomped out of the third video store, where they had just lost their only copy, determined to find a phone booth and call every video rental place in Tokyo until he found _Shrek_. Before he had taken more than a few steps, however, he was halted by a somewhat familiar voice.

"Mamoru-san!"

He turned to see one of Usagi's friends. "Hey, Minako-chan," he greeted the blond girl, attempting to look and sound normal. From the grin on her face, he wasn't sure if he'd succeeded or not.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

The question caught him off guard, and he could only say "Huh?"

"At the video store. I guess not," she added, looking at his empty hands. "Could I make a suggestion?"

"Um...well--"

"Why don't you try this?" she cut him off, and produced a video from her bag. "Just give it back whenever!" she chirped, shoving it into his hands and taking off down the street. Mamoru looked at the cassette in his hands.

_Shrek_.

"Enjoy!" Minako's voice came drifting back on the breeze.

When he got home, he found a bag of microwave popcorn and a coupon for free pizza delivery taped to his door, along with a single red rose.


	5. Once In A Blue Moon

And now for something completely different...

The Disclaimer!

Sailor Moon is not mine. The Blue Moon Cafe and Tanaka Mari (a.k.a. the woman in the blue dress) who works there are mine. Ami's telescope is mine too, but I'm letting her borrow it for the fic.

Oh, fair warning: this chapter turned out kinda long...and definitely contains 100 of your Recommended Daily Allowance of WAFF. (Percentages based on a 2000 calorie diet.)

The Year of the Onion

by Jessyca Thornbrook

5. Once in a Blue Moon

"Tsukino-san! Wake up!"

Usagi's head jerked up from her desk—where it had rested for only a few seconds, she was sure. Although she didn't remember the class having switched from English to math. . . .

"It's not my fault," she grumbled to herself as she stood out in the hall, balancing a bucket of water on her head. "I could hardly sleep last night. Of course I'm tired! I shouldn't even have to be at school today, but Mom's so mean, she wouldn't let me stay home!" She sighed.

_I wonder if he's watched it yet? Mina-chan said she gave it to him. . . .what if he doesn't get it? What if he _does_ get it but doesn't like it? What if I'm totally wrong about everything?_ Her eyes filled with tears, and she was too busy blinking them back to notice someone entering and leaving the classroom door a few feet away.

"Tsukino-san," Haruna's voice suddenly broke into Usagi's thoughts, causing her to jump and spill some of the water down the back of her neck. "You can come back in now. There's been a delivery for you."

Usagi looked up in surprise—fortunately her teacher had the presence of mind to grab the water bucket before it toppled.

"A delivery? For me?"

Haruna nodded, and Usagi could have sworn she looked almost...jealous?

-----------------

Dear Princess,

I will be at the Blue Moon Cafe at 4:30 today.

Please come.

-The Ogre

Usagi read the note for the seventeenth time, clutching the giant sunflower that had accompanied it. The Blue Moon Cafe was really the lower floor of a small house that had been converted into a restaurant. The wooden sign over the door had a round, blue moon with a face painted on it. She liked the look of it, cute and cozy. Taking a deep breath, her heart pounding like a jackhammer, she pushed open the door and went inside.

A dark-haired woman in a blue dress looked up as she entered. "Are you Tsukino-san?" she inquired politely.

"Um, yes," answered Usagi, surprised. She glanced around and her heart fell. It was a pretty dining room, decorated with blue and silver moons and stars, but it was empty.

"This way, please," said the woman, motioning toward the back of the restaurant. Usagi followed, a bit confused. The woman led her to a metal spiral staircase, painted in varying shades of blue and purple. Up they went, through the second floor living area, turning four full circles and emerging into what appeared to be a small greenhouse.

Usagi took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the scent of flowers. She wanted to stay there, just breathing in the perfume, but her guide was already exiting through a narrow door. Usagi followed, and gasped as she stepped out onto the roof.

She was still surrounded by flowers: roses, orchids, irises, even a few small flowering trees in pots. At each corner of the roof, small lanterns dangled from decorative poles. In the midst of it all was a small table set for two. Candles glowed in its center, their flames dancing in the soft breeze.

Usagi could only see one problem with the whole beautiful picture.

"The gentleman sends his apologies," said the woman in the blue dress, "but he will be a few minutes late. In the meantime, please, sit and relax. May I bring you something to drink?"

"A chocolate milkshake, please," Usagi replied, mainly out of habit. She wasn't really thirsty or hungry—unusual for her. Her stomach felt strange and fluttery. Half of her wished Mamoru would arrive soon, and the other half was afraid he would.

She sipped absently at her milkshake, staring off into space, her daydreams alternating between wonderful fantasies and humiliating nightmares. She was so deep in one of the former, in fact, that she didn't notice the soft footsteps approaching.

---------------------

"Of all the times for him to be late!" sighed Motoki. "I mean, the guy is never late to _anything_, and he has to change all that _now_?" His head dropped into his hands.

"Let me see!" said Minako, giving him an impatient shove that sent him sprawling.

"It's my turn, Mina-chan!" Rei cut in, pushing her aside.

"Will you guys stop shoving, before somebody gets knocked off the roof!" Makoto scolded. "Besides, it's _my_ turn!"

"I'm the one who told you girls they would be here!" protested Motoki.

"Well, I'm the one who gave him the tape!" Minako shot back. "And I went all the way to Yokohama with Usagi for that cake!"

"We _would_ have helped if anybody had told us what was going on!" Rei and Makoto glared at the other two.

"It's _my_ telescope," Ami piped up unexpectedly, looking up from her biology textbook. The others gaped at her for a moment, and she blushed.

"That's right," agreed Motoki. "It's Ami-chan's telescope, so she gets first dibs."

"But you have to tell us what's happening! In detail!" ordered Makoto. Before Ami could move, the other girls snatched her book and dragged her forward. She sighed in resignation and squinted through the telescope at the small building across the street.

"What's happening?" squealed Minako.

"Usagi-chan is drinking something."

"Does she look upset?"

"No, she's smiling. Oh, someone else is there now. . ." Ami trailed off, suddenly very intent on the scene unfolding before her.

"Lemme see! Lemme see!" a chorus of voices shrieked.

---------------------

Mamoru almost hated to interrupt whatever thoughts had brought that dreamy smile to Usagi's face. He watched her in silence for a few minutes before reluctantly clearing his throat. She immediately snapped out of her reverie, turning those sparkling blue eyes on him. He suddenly found it more difficult to breathe.

"Sorry I'm late. I got held up at school."

"Oh, that's okay," she giggled, "it happens to me all the time!"

Mamoru was quite proud of himself for holding back all the comments that sprang to mind. He sat down in the chair opposite her.

"So. . ." she said, after a pause during which the temperature mysteriously rose several degrees, "this is a really nice place."

"Yeah," he agreed. "The owner is kind of a friend of mine."

"I figured they probably didn't let just anyone eat up here," she said, reaching for a menu. Before she could open it, however, Mamoru's hand caught hers in a gentle grip.

"Usagi-chan," he met her surprised gaze, hoping he didn't look as nervous as he felt, "I think we should talk first. The food here is really great, and I'd rather talk without distractions."

Usagi blushed but smiled. "And you _know_ how I get distracted by good food!" Mamoru smiled back, and a momentary silence fell.

He finally broke it. "So...you think I'm an ogre, huh?"

"Yes. . . no! I mean, sort of. Sometimes," she floundered, feeling her face heat up again. "I mean, it's not like that exactly. I just think you, um—"

"I have layers. Like an onion."

"Yes! You do. I. . . I," she took a deep breath, and plunged in, "I just realized, a while ago, that you weren't who I thought you were. There was more to you than just this guy who got his kicks by being mean to me." Mamoru winced a little, but Usagi was so focused on what she was saying that she didn't notice. "And well, you know, I was watching _Shrek_ and started thinking that maybe you were kind of like that, and that you built walls to keep people out, and. . ." her voice sank almost to a whisper, "I didn't want to be on the outside anymore." She fell silent, staring at the tablecloth with all her might, intensely aware that he was still holding her hand.

_Any second now, he'll let go. Any second, he'll tell me that he's not interested, that he only met me here to tell me, because he felt sorry for me. Any second now. . . ._

Mamoru knew he had to say something. She was waiting for him to speak. And she looked so. . . defenseless. Like a single word could crush her. He could hurt her now, and none of the jibes and insults he'd given her before could even begin to compare. He had power over her.

_But no more than she has over me. . . ._

That was what should really scare him. He'd spent his whole life—at least, the part he could remember—keeping everyone away, so that _no one_ could hurt him. The idea that this girl had gotten so far past his defenses should have been the most important and terrifying thing on his mind.

But somehow, it didn't matter at all. Nothing mattered except the expression on her face now, as she slowly raised her eyes to meet his. She was holding her breath—he wasn't sure how he knew that—and she looked as if she were steeling herself against a painful blow. As if she expected him to hurt her. And yet, she had still taken the risk. She was that brave.

_I have to be worthy of that! I won't let her down. I can't! I'll tell her how I feel. I'll tell her everything. I'll tell her that. . . I love her. I love her! I'll shout it to the whole world! If I can just get my voice to work!_

Usagi stared at Mamoru. He seemed to be trying to say something, but no sound was coming out. _Is it so hard for him to say what he feels? Is he worried about hurting me? Or. . . or—_ She didn't get to complete the thought, because Mamoru finally managed to choke out a sentence. Well, sort of a sentence.

"To hell with this."

He stood up so suddenly that Usagi's brain hadn't even really registered his movement yet as he pulled her to her feet as well. She lost her balance, but he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close before she could start to fall. His other hand released its grip on hers and slipped around the back of her neck. She started to speak, but before her lips could form the first word of her question, he leaned in and covered them with his own.

(If either of them had been capable of noticing anything external at this point, they might have been surprised to hear a familiar voice, distant but still audible, yelling "Touchdown!")

Usagi felt as if her insides were on fire, but her outside was frozen. She couldn't move. She could only stand there (not even under her own power—he was holding her up) as that searing kiss turned her heart and brain and soul to white flames.

After moments, or centuries, Mamoru forced himself to ease off, turning his passion into gentleness, stroking her lips softly and slowly. He realized she hadn't moved since he'd kissed her; she'd gone almost limp in his arms, like a doll. _Is she just stunned? Or. . . is she scared?_ At that thought, he reluctantly pulled away.

And Usagi suddenly found she _could_ move. At the first brush of empty air across her mouth, her arms moved without any help from her brain, wrapping tightly around him, pulling him close again. Her fingers clutched at the back of his neck, sliding into his hair and drawing his head back down until their lips reconnected.

Apparently she was neither stunned nor scared. For his part, Mamoru felt a little of both, but that was nothing compared to the warmth of her in his arms, and those lips like velvet moving against his. Kissing _him_. That was the thought that just about knocked him over. She wasn't just letting him hold her. Her slender arms were twined around him with surprising strength, and she was the one pressing her body closer. And it was _Oh, gods!_ her tongue nudging at his mouth, teasing it open.

Of course, _he_ was the one who practically bent her over backwards after that. . . .

------------------------

"They're gonna pass out if they keep that up," said Rei, in a slightly awed voice. She was immediately rewarded by three pairs of hands grabbing her and tossing her bodily to one side.

------------------------

They did eventually find it necessary to breathe. After several minutes of just holding her close, catching his breath and feeling her heartbeat against his chest, Mamoru gathered his courage.

"Usako," he whispered.

"Mmm?" she sighed happily, snuggling further into his arms.

"Well, um, I just wanted to tell you," he stammered, "that, in case you haven't figured it out already. . . I love you."

"Really?" she whispered, tipping her head back to look at him. He nodded. For a moment she just looked up at him, as the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen spread across her face. Then she flung her arms around his neck.

"Mamo-chan! I love you too! I love you so much! I've always loved you!" she babbled happily, a single tear running down her cheek. Mamoru squeezed her tight, then lifted her off her feet and spun her around. She laughed and shrieked, and Mamoru laughed as he'd never laughed before, and when they stopped they both almost fell over.

"I need to do something," Mamoru gasped, once they had caught their balance and stopped laughing. He stepped back, holding her hand, and turned toward the street edge of the building.

"I LOVE TSUKINO USAGI!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Usagi's jaw dropped, and her face turned bright red. He turned to her and shrugged, grinning. "I promised myself I would do that."

"Okay then," said Usagi, taking a deep breath. "I LOVE CHIBA MAMORU!"

"I LOVE IT WHEN A PLAN COMES TOGETHER!" A flock of pigeons scattered from the rooftop across the street as another shout rang out, followed by a chorus of "MINAKO! SHUT UP!"

"I think my secret agents have betrayed me!" giggled Usagi.

"Secret agents? You mean Minako-chan?"

"And Motoki-onii-san. Stalking you is hard work, you know." He smiled at her serious expression as she turned toward the other building again. "YOU GUYS ARE _SO_ BUSTED!" she hollered, then added quietly "I really will have to hurt them for spying on us!"

"I'll help," smiled Mamoru, slipping his arms around her again. "But later."

"Later," she agreed dreamily, looking up into his eyes.

"Much later. . . ."

"Mmmm. . . ."

THE END

----------------

Oh. My. Lord.

I finished something. I finished something. You don't understand--this never happens! The last time I finished a piece of writing, and actually felt like it was complete, was...um...never? This may indeed be an unprecedented occurance! The opening of a new epoch in my life as a writer! Yay me!

I deserve a party.

Okay, better get back to Bunny Slippers, huh?

-Jessyca (a little giddy)


End file.
